


Behind Every Tale

by noctiscorvus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Greenberg is mentioned, but then again that's Greenberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiscorvus/pseuds/noctiscorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an urban legend at Beacon Hills High school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Every Tale

_There's this urban legend at Beacon Hills, about a boy who was always overlooked by everyone. And then he got detention on the last day of school, having to restock the library shelves before going home._   
_Expect halfway through, the lights go out. The school is locked._   
_They forgot him._

_When the school reopened, the hallways were trashed, windows cracked and classrooms torn apart._   
_The one room that hadn't been touched was the library, where a bag sat, covered in a month's worth of dust._   
_Some of the books in the bag had the name 'Greenberg' scribbled on the inside of the covers. Sometimes once, sometimes filling the whole page._

_Except there was no student called Greenberg in the school system, even though his name was on the lacrosse team list, that he even had a locker and uniform that had been worn._

_But then students started seeing the figure of a boy out the corner of their eye, right before something broke._   
_Rumours spread that Greenberg was living in the school, making sure that people didn't forget him this time._   
_The headmaster squashed the rumours with the threat of suspension, but that just made the 'accidents' happen more, sometimes a locker found torn from the wall, a door hanging off the hinges._

_The rumour came back, that Greenberg was tired of being ignored._   
_So, the lacrosse team stepped in. Greenberg was on their team roster after all._   
_They started talking like he was there, seeing a broken tap and sighing 'Damnit Greenberg.' and 'Greenberg borrowed my notes and didn't give it back' was a common excuse for not having homework._   
_It was an unspoken agreement that someone would always take Greenberg's uniform home to wash it, hang it back up in the locker before the next training._

_The 'accidents' happened less and less, Greenberg a common name dropped in conversation. So it's said that if his name isn't spoken enough, he'll come back. He'll ruin the school again in a tantrum, terrorize the student body till they're forced to remember him._

"And that's why Coach keeps picking on Greenberg. Well, not really picking because he isn't real, probably never was-" Stiles rubbed his forehead before wincing a little, "That or Finstock really believe he sees him. Wouldn't put it past him really."

And Derek nodded, the earlier confusion in his frown having ebbed away at the explanation.  
He'd been curious about who the coach had been blaming the muddy state of the lacrosse field on, never once having seen anyone with 'Greenberg' on their shirt, yet having heard the name dropped quite a few times.

When Derek went Beacon Hills high, he'd attended in between the kids who'd been there when it happened, those that brought the urban legend to life and the ones who dealt with Finstock.

The mentions of a student forgotten during the summer vacation and some kid called Greenberg had barely been blips on his radar, neither interesting enough a topic for him and his friends.

But there was something else that bothered the Alpha about the name.  
He watched Stiles pillage the fridge, trying to recall where he'd heard that name before. Turning away from the teen sniffing leftover ham, Derek's eyes dragged across the loft, stopping when he caught sight of his uncle.

Peter had been reading a book, in Mandarin because he always had to show off, except, earlier, the older man lay practically sprawled across the couch, almost boneless.  
Yet now he seemed a little tense, the corners of his mouth twitching while he was clearly just staring at the pages of the book.

Aware that he was being scrutinized, Peter's amused blue eyes flickered up to meet Derek's scowling hazel and it just suddenly clicked. "You."  
"Me?" Came the much too innocent reply, the smirk shining in his eyes.  
Derek narrowed his glare, "Greenberg."

The werewolf scoffed, leaning forward to drop his book on the table before standing up, "Now now, don't tell me you've hit your head one too many times and forgotten your uncle's name."

The claws of an Alpha dug into Peter's arm as he went to brush by his nephew, covering the wince with a put on sigh, "How am I supposed to know what you want if you don't use your words, Derek? Despite having a wild, rather hairy side, we're not monosyllabic cavemen."  
He could only roll his eyes when Derek just kept glaring, still not letting go.  
"He was from an allied pack, came over a few times. What the boy was telling-" Peter jerked his chin towards Stiles, the teen licking mayonnaise off a knife,"Was before you were even walking, but you met him at some of the Moon festivals."  
Derek slipped his hand off his Beta's arm, brow furrowed as he tried to put face to name, to no avail, "So why was he at the school?"

Peter couldn't help but grin at the memory, "Well, the detention bit was right, only I wouldn't call myself easily overlooked-"  
"You had detention on the last day? Why am I not surprised." Peter just flashed a fanged grin before continuing.  
"Anyway, I was putting away the books when he arrived, come straight from his school. Helped me finish up and then I threw him through the door." Clearly enjoying Derek's confused frown, he waited a beat before adding, "Our packs may have been allies but our.. relationship was more that of adversaries."

Peter blew out a sigh, a fond grin, "He stayed for a couple months, tried ambushing me whenever he could. Lots of damage to school property." And he didn't sound one bit remorse about the vandalism.

The older Hale crossed the loft, passing Stiles in the kitchen as he went about making coffee.  
Derek crossed his arms, watching his uncle before asking "So what happened to him?"  
Blue eyes flashed at him, cold and unkind, "I won, obviously."

"Dude." Stiles, holding a plate with a rather packed sandwich, threw Peter a disturbed look, "What did we say about the creepy smiles?"  
Of course that just made the man chuckle, throwing a bit more leer into the smirk till the teen backed out of the kitchen with a distasteful glare.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always had this theory that Greenberg isn't real.  
> And it's a toss up between it being a story Coach is all too eager to keep going because it's tradition or Coach actually being a little insane after he hit his head during a game in his professional days and afterwards kept seeing this kid, who'd killed himself when Finstock was in high school.  
> As it doesn't really hurt anyway, no one says anything about it, just accepts it. And there's always someone in each of Finstock's class who's been designated as filling out tests for Greenberg, all assignments hand-me-downs made by seniors years before.


End file.
